


Target Practice

by FearsUnspoken



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, cute fluff, mean girls are mean, minor world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearsUnspoken/pseuds/FearsUnspoken
Summary: "How can she compare? She’s probably never held a weapon before."





	Target Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Or where Mango Pudding, Orange Juice, and Nasi Lemak are mean girls a Milk runs into Black Tea to blow off some steam.

“Milk.”

She heard a voice call to her across the room. It was a voice she would be able to hear over a crowded restaurant, a battlefield, an empty meadow. Some force would always bring that voice to her and she couldn’t ignore it. Not that she ever wanted to.

Making her way quickly, she saw the hunting party returned from their expedition, a little worse for wear but intact all the same.

“Ah, you’re back, Master Attendant.” She bowed lightly.

The Master Attendant waved off the girls crowding around her. Mango Pudding and Orange Juice subtly fighting each other to get closer while Nasi Lemak tried to reach over them with her voice, since being a head shorter left her at a disadvantage.

“Girls, you did amazing today. We are so close to building such a great team. I can feel it.”

"Close but not quite...." The master attendant added under her breath, missed by the other three but caught by Milk's attentive ear.

Lost in thought, it took Master Attendant a second to address the quiet food soul. “Milk, I’m glad you’re here. The team needs some patching up. Can you and Salad work your magic? I have orders I need to attend to and the expedition took a little longer than planned. They have so much fire you know just...”

She turned to gesture at the girls who looked seconds away from pouncing on each other, regardless of their wounds. Scorned frowns marking their seemingly innocent, cute faces. Upon realizing they were being watched, they instantly smiled sweetly and even attempted to look as if they were in motion to praise one another for a job well done. However, the curves of their mouths were far too sharp to be considered friendly. Who were they trying to fool?

“Just so much fire.” Master Attendant finished, running her hand through her hair. “They just need something... something... maybe a healer on the team?”

Milk held her breath.

“Maybe...Salad?”

A sigh of relief left her lips before she could help it.

“No. Not Salad. I wouldn’t do that to that sweet boy. They need someone that can deal with them. Someone to mellow them out. Maybe...Yogurt?”

Another voice called for Master Attendant before Milk could respond. The restaurant was in need again. The Master hardly knew a minutes rest these days and Milk contemplated how to assure proper care was given that couldn’t be argued away.

There was a quick apology from Master Attendant before the grey-eyed soul was left alone to handle the three girls that, now aware of their Master’s departure, saw no further reason to play at being nice.

“Now look what you two did! You drove Master Attendant away.” Mango Pudding said with a sharp click of her staff against the stone floor, her childlike cuteness still evident in her pout.

The other two girl’s mouths dropped. Nasi Lemak literally squeaked with rage but Orange Juice cut her off before she could do anything.

“If anyone ran Master Attendant off it was you two! You embarrassed her with your performance.”

Smoothing out her curls, unimpressed, Mango Pudding scoffed. “This coming from the one hiding behind us, I think you’re mistaken. My performance was excellent as always.”

She rolled her eyes but the grip on her straw-like staff reflected what her face didn’t. “Hiding?! You weren’t complaining when my orange flame kept that Fallen Angel from trampling over you. Poor Master Attendant would be carrying you home, you buckle like a leaf.”

“And aim like one.” Nasi Lemak chimed in, giggling.

“Your aim isn’t any better. How hard is it to throw coconuts?” Orange juice sneered, there was clearly no love to spare between any of them.

“You’re both weak. Your presence is a burden on the Master.” The blonde slammed the end of her staff down again, drawing all the attention back to her as she thought it rightfully should be.

“I would do anything for Master Attendant! There would be no one to burden her if she asked it! They would be gone!” The dark haired one shouted a little too loud and full of fire. No doubt, if given the chance, she’d prove her word, though Master Attendant has specifically asked her not to on more than one occasion.

The girls opened their mouths again, ready to rip each other apart verbally and possibly physically if no one has stopped them before the blunt noise of Milk clearing her throat caused them to pause.

They stared at the healer for a moment as if just realizing she was there for the first time.

Mango Pudding recovered first, dusting off the sleeves of her dress. “Oh, Master Attendant must have sent for you. What took so long?”

“Master Attendant is so thoughtful.” Nasi Lemak cupped her own face, mooning over the idea that the gesture was for her alone.

“As she is beautiful.” Orange Juice added, practically doing the same, her coarse tone melting away into something far more dreamy.

Mango Pudding rolled her eyes trying to imagine why had she been paired with such insufferable idiots.

She turned to the healer, trusting her injured arm in her direction. “Well, the best first then. I’m clearly the strongest here.”

Fire replaced the hearts in the other girl’s eyes almost before Milk would put a stop to it, her patience, what little she had, wearing thin.

“I won’t heal anyone if you keep fighting. I need you all quiet so I can concentrate.” Her voice was dull and uninteresting in the face of their previous fury, but they quieted all the same.

Even as they fumed in their silence.

Milk bypassed the blonde strictly on principle and went to the smallest first. Though neither missed Nasi Lemak’s smug face over the healer’s head as she bent to tend to the cuts on her legs.

Mango Pudding stewed until she thought she would bust. How dare she be ignored by anyone! Much less by an emotionless walking band-aid who didn’t know a dagger from a dinner knife if it poked her in the.....

Then a smile crossed her face dangerously. She looked over at taller girl, her eyes held a wicked gleam. “I suppose that can’t be helped. Not everyone knows power when she sees it. I would think from the back of the battlefield it would be hard to tell.”

Orange Juice caught on quickly, her voice sickly sweet. “True. I mean, how can she compare? She’s probably never held a weapon before. Not very useful in that aspect, is she?”

“What do you think, Nasi? Does she looked like she’s held a weapon before?” Mango Pudding asked as if it was an innocent question and nothing more.

The dark haired girl tapped her fingers against her cheek, tilting her head downwards. “I don’t think so. Her hands are way too soft. They’d bruise too easily. Not like you couldn’t heal them, huh?”

If someone had time for this, that person was not here. Standing, Milk wiped her hands on her apron and turned to walk away, not being able to take another minute of being around such ungrateful childish excuses for food souls. Salad could handle the rest from here. Their injuries were minor at best.

A shame the fallen angel didn’t hit them harder.

“Your wounds aren’t life-threatening. I’ll send someone over to finish the job. I have somewhere to be.” Her voice held no apologies. She couldn’t be bothered with it.

“What?! But you haven’t even looked at me? “ Mango Pudding shouted at her back but the healer didn’t turn around not once.

————————-

Milk wrung her hands in her apron as she made her way to the training grounds, twisting harder and harder the more she thought about what they said. She didn’t know why it even bothered her. She knew what those food souls were like, their words were no surprise to her and yet...

'How can she compare? She’s probably never held a weapon before.'

They were right about something. As a healer, her talents never called for one and being surrounded by mostly magic users until recently she couldn’t say she’s had very much opportunity to experiment. Not that she really cared to until now. She had been content with her abilities, and, dare she say, even proud at how much they’ve improved during her time here.

Of course, that could be partly contributed to their Master Attendant’s brilliant leadership. Before this contract, Milk had not seen the battlefield so close nor traveled so far. It surprised her in some way what she was capable of when given the task. She never would have done as such on her own. She never cared to. She was not as ambitious or outgoing as the others. She was here to help where she could and serve her Master well. Which she did...didn’t she?

Perhaps that’s why she was here. Visiting the training grounds was usually an act of business or of boredom. She was either healing those that had gone too far and waiting for her friends to be done with their sessions. Occasionally she liked to watch, caught up by the antics of some of the more competitive food souls or perhaps just to silently cheer on Black Tea.

Not that the other woman needed it. Her unfaltering determination was something Milk had never seen before. There were a lot of things about her like that. Speaking of which, where was she?

A glint on a bench not far from a row of target dummies caught her eye. Curious, she approached to find a very familiar pair of pistols, their delicately crafted markings glistening in the sun in a way not often seen since they were never left unattended. Her confusion was quickly overturned by concern. Black Tea was never without her weapon. Even in the privacy of the shared bedrooms they were only ever an arms length away.

Thinking back on it, Milk couldn’t say she had ever held them before. Had anyone? There had never been a warning against touching them, so why did she feel guilty by the thought of it? They couldn’t just sit here for another food soul to run across. Heaven forbid if one of the more childlike ones decide to make a game of it. Black Tea would be furious. Probably more with herself than anyone else.

Milk had cautiously reached for them, inches away from answering how heavy they were, when they vanished before her eyes. Only glints of small swirling purple energy danced, then faded where the weapons had rested.

Milk didn’t have time to panic before a familiar voice, low and ever calm, called to her.

“Surely there is something to be said about handling another woman’s pistols.”

Despite the tone being neither chastising nor flirtatious, it didn’t stop Milk’s cheeks from warming as she spun around.

“I..I didn’t think you’d want them laying around. I was going to come find you.”

Black Tea stepped forward, holstering the pistols that had quite literally materialize in her hands.

“There is no need to apologize. If something were to happen, you would be the only one I would trust with them.”

Those words made her face burn hotter, but she pushed it away, not wanting to think of any situation that would cause that to come to be.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” The pale haired woman said.

“I pray that I won’t need to. It is a necessity if we are caught off guard or if they were knocked from my hands. I was testing at what distance I could summon them. As of now, it is not as far as I would like.”

She nodded. That made sense. Black Tea wasn’t one for “party tricks”. Energy consumption was just as important as a plan of attack in her book.

Closer now, Milk could see a trickle of sweat running down the other woman’s temple, a sign that she had been pushing herself as she often did. Though no sign of weariness weighed down her voice. Still firm yet gentle as ever.

“Did you come to see me? Does Master Attendant have a need for me?”

“No. No, I...” Milk said quickly before the words were lost to her and she looked away. How could she explain this? Did she even know the reason herself?

The armed woman stepped closer still, her presence as comforting as it was distracting.

“Is everything alright?” Her tone softening just enough that Milk noticed.

“It’s nothing to worry about. I’m just...“ She fiddled with her apron, frustrated as she admitted. “I don’t know.”

She recounted what the other food souls have said around her, feeling slightly embarrassed when Black Tea didn’t say anything for a long moment, her brows knitted lightly together.

“If they spent as much time training as they did talking, the fallen would quake before us.” The other woman said almost to herself, before drawing one of her pistols from the holster on her thigh. “I would not pay them much mind and I will tell you why, but first, would you like to satisfy your curiosity?”

Milk’s eyes widened at the outstretched hand, the weapon still held with impossible strength between petite fingers.

Of course, Black Tea would understand. There were a few times when a misunderstanding would stumble between them. A few times when words failed one and the other couldn’t pick them up. Since the first time they met there seemed to be a force, a working connection that kept them on the same wavelength. Where others food souls had scratched their heads at them, they knew what the other needed. Sometimes even before they knew themselves.

Milk only nodded since her tongue refused to obey, unable to conjure the words to express her gratitude.

It took a bit of maneuvering and creative thinking on their part. Evidently, the gunslinger’s pistols were far more complicated than any humankind she had seen. Not only were the concerns about another taking them to do harm misplaced, but apparently was impossible. While the weapons themselves could be taken, they required special bullets and none of the physical kind would do. Black Tea’s magic alone could craft such ammunition for the firearms to use. Without her, they were nothing more than decorative chunks of metal.

So there they were, standing with hardly an inch between them. Milk’s back settled between the taller woman’s caging arms, keeping her horns close in mind so no accidents would occur.

She allowed Black Tea to guide their position into the appropriate stance and was suddenly very aware of her hands at every exchange. She felt the heat creep back into her face as the other woman’s fingertips nudged her thighs apart to widen her stance and soft touches gently encouraged her to straighten her back and relax her shoulders. Their close proximity was hard to ignore, especially since they were at the perfect height for one to speak softly into the other's ear without effort.

“Hold the weight of it more with your last two fingers, like this.”

The gun was heavier than it looked. Milk had a hard time imagining carrying them around all day or how they didn’t slide down the other woman’s thighs when holstered. In fact, her better judgment told her it was best not to try to imagine the other woman’s thighs at all. Least if she wanted to remember any of this lesson after all was said and done.

The other woman’s breath was warm on the shell of her ear, dividing her focus in ways she didn’t want to admit. She opted to force herself to watch the way Black Tea fingers covered her own like a glove, putting pressure on the digits she wished to emphasize during her demonstration.

Where their bare skin touched she could feel the ebb and flow of their energies moving with each other. Tuning in to the each other's rhythm, adjusting, harmonizing, hovering just below the surface, waiting to be released. They charged and replenished each other, yet soothed the other in the very same way. It was hard to describe the kind of connection they had. Milk had never met another food soul that blended with her magic so well. Even Coffee, who shared the same creator and had been around much of her lifetime, didn’t quite compare to the rush of power she felt while standing next to the gunslinger. And she knew very well that the other woman felt the same.

“You are incomparable.”

Milk blinked the world into focus at those words. “Huh?”

Black Tea moved their joined hands to aim toward the nearest target.

“You are incomparable. Especially to them, but not for the reason they insinuated.”

The horned woman listened in silence, relaxing at the free hand that came to gently demand her shoulder to loosen up.

“They will never fully understand the power that you come by naturally. They may never truly understand the strength of the impact you leave with others either. You were forged to repair, to mend their broken bones, to make way for an even greater healing. It is something they can not touch. You cannot care for cuts with more blood, you can not repair limbs with brute strength. You can not will a heart to beat with the trust of a sword, or aim of a gun. Or even a burst of power. While we work to help others, it is you who helps us. It is you who strengthens us when we are weak, who mends us when we are broken. While we both fight to push back the forces that would consume us, you give one the strength to make a change, while we merely present the opportunity.”

Milk opened her mouth to disagree only to close it again when Black Tea’s free arm came around her waist.

“We’re going to pull the trigger on the count of 3.” She said calmly.

The pale haired woman nodded, feeling the power stir and shift around her body on instinct.

“1....2”

The arm around her waist tightened, holding her back flush against the taller woman’s body.

“3”

Though she has merged her magic into such an attack many times before it didn’t compare to holding that power in her own hands, ready to explode. The rush of their combined energies shifting into one colossal force, barreling into a condensed ball of unstoppable power, nearly took her breath away.

They pulled the trigger.

The release wasn’t something she was prepared for. Even with Black Tea bracing most of the impact, the weapon could barely contain the mass of wild power and jolted back with an abundant fury that shook her to the core. The blast raced forward with speed too quick to follow and flowered with blinding brilliance.

What she felt was nothing compared to their target, which now was obliterated beyond repair. Only a charred wooden stake in the ground, surrounded by shredded cloth and sand, was any indication it was even there to begin with.

It took Milk a moment to remember how to breathe, caught up in feeling first hand the awesome force of their combined power, her arm throbbed and trembled as if made of paper.

However, her surroundings came back to her quickly as she felt the body behind her begin to sway. Without thought she spun around to hold the other woman to her, the pistol dropping to the ground unnoticed.

Black Tea nearly collapsed into her, with quietly panting breath. The shorter woman took the weight of her willingly. Though her tired arm strained under the pressure, Milk ignored it.

“You’ve worked yourself too hard again.” Her voice was harder than usual but she couldn’t help being irritated at how the gunslinger seemingly refused to look after herself better.

Black Tea didn’t answer, her jaw clenching and unclenching in a way that told her she was trying to get control back into her exhausted limbs with sheer willpower alone. While Milk had no doubt it would work after a time, She didn’t have the patience or the will to watch her in a weakened state for long and she summoned her remaining healing energy to flow slowly into her tired body.

Embraced as they were she could smell the delicate scent that lingered over the taller woman’s skin. It was hard to place, a sweet earthy, almost flowery fragrance. So unlike the dense richness that hung in the air when Coffee walked by. Milk found it rather... soothing, she thought. It suited her in a way. That softness amongst the sweat and blood, almost hidden by her solemn exterior that kept so many at bay. Allowing so few to know it even existed.

There was no saying how long they stood so close before what power that left her was returned, their bond creating a seamless channel for their magic to mingle, to regenerate and magnify without much effort. Milk would have exhausted herself had this been with another food soul. Black Tea herself seemed to be reviving as well. Straightening herself little by little, her hands came to rest on the small of Milk’s back, almost as if returning the embrace.

“Thank you.” The gunslinger spoke softly into her hair, her weight now fully back on her own two feet, and yet she hadn’t pulled herself away.

“You should be more careful.” She nodded, the motion practically making her nuzzle the soft shoulder under her nose.

“I really should get back and see if Master Attendant has need of me. I fear she is not sleeping through the night again.” Milk hesitated for a moment before finally stepping back, knowing if she stayed there much longer it would only bring up questions. Some of them neither knew how to answer.

Black Tea let her slip away, though she looked as if she was going to say something before she thought twice of it. She moved to brush the dust off her skirt, putting herself back in order as if nothing had been amiss.

“I am sorry for worrying.” She said finally, her eyes shifting around in search of something before settling on pale hair woman. “Perhaps at a time that is more convenient, we can.... spend some leisure time together. “

Her words were sincere despite her pause.

Milk let those words bounce around in her head. What leisure time they had outside of their duties was scarce. Though she couldn’t say she did anything special during those times.

She looked over the other woman waiting patiently, and rather stiffly, for her reply.

It would certainly be nice to change that.

“I...I would very much like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like how the fandom just already accepts Black Tea and Milk as basically married. I just wish there were more fics centered around them and being cute. Might just have to make more of these. ;)


End file.
